


Changes

by whoopswheresmyusername



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canon compliant for the most part, Creeper Hybrid Sam | Awesamdude, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Everyone Needs A Hug, Found Family, New L'manburg era, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), buncha mc headcanons i mashed into this haaaaaaaaahaha, cursed au type deal but also not really?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29036409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoopswheresmyusername/pseuds/whoopswheresmyusername
Summary: Ranboo becomes a ticking time bomb when a witch's curse threatens to turn him completely into an enderman.He seeks Awesamdude's help.Obviously nothing goes to plan.(title from david bowie's changes)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 274





	1. Shift

Ranboo looks from the map in his hand to the house before him. There is no way that this is the right place. There’s nothing inside, he thinks, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Uh, hello?” He yells, knocking on the door. It swings slowly inward, emitting a creak of disuse. He lets out a small surprised noise and peeks inside. “Mr Awesamdude, sir?” 

He clears his throat and fidgets with his gloves. “Anybody home?”

A loud shifting of what sounds like pistons and stone comes from his left, and he leans back out.

The cliff seems to be moving.

The cliff IS moving.

He reels backwards, gawking at the grinding of earth. A giant doorway yawns where a cliff once was, and a man with bright green hair and hoodie steps out casually. The cliff begins its ascent.

“Hello?” Ranboo yells, striding over to the grass beyond his nether portal. “Mr Awesam?” He says awkwardly. “Dude… sir. Did I need to add that?” He mumbles, an afterthought to an afterthought.

Sam is inspecting a netherite axe when he catches wind of Ranboo’s voice. He looks up, seeing the lanky teen standing awkwardly on the patio. 

Ranboo never got used to looking at sam’s face. Not really. It’s not that scary. It’s just that the mottled green of his skin and the full black of his eye is… something he’s never really seen before. Well. He’s never seen someone have it on display so casually. He’s a little envious of Sam in that regard.

“Oh, hey, kid.” He waves, settling the axe in its place by his hip. 

“Uh, kinda forgot you had the whole…” Ranboo makes a circular motion with his finger, the other hand playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Secret… base thing going on. Anyway,-” He inhales, pocketing his gesturing hand.

“You want something?” Sam smiles, walking past ranboo.

“Uh, yes, actually. You see-” Ranboo inhales awkwardly. “Uh, it’s kind of about…” He makes a vague gesture to his face.

Sam blinks. “Are you talking about my eye?” He says, not quite getting what Ranboo is gesturing to.

“Yes. I mean, no. But also yes,” Ranboo overcorrects and flounders over his words. “Yes and no. I mean, it is about your eye… and face- but it’s also about… my face. It’s a face-related issue.”

Sam tilts his head, squinting slightly in confusion. 

“Let me start over,” Ranboo sighs, rubbing his eyes from under his glasses. “Listen. I think you told me about how your face is like that-” he points at sam’s eye and patch of green skin.

“Yeah,” Sam laughs, remembering the story. “That witch was pissed.”

Ranboo laughs too, but awkwardly and in a way that sounds like he’s pressed for time. “How’d you get it to stop?”

Sam thinks. “Took a long time. I’d bore you if I told you all of it. Why?”

Ranboo fidgets with the ear strap of his mask, unhooking it. “Uh, it’s gonna be very important for me to know, because-” He pulls the mask away, revealing a patch of black skin that covers the lower left side of his face. “I think I’m having the same problem that you did.”

\---

Ranboo sits on the marble steps next to Sam’s auto-brewer. 

“When did this start?” Sam asks, looking from ranboo to the chests.

Ranboo shrugs. “Dunno. I was probably six when she marked me, but it didn’t start spreading until a year or two ago,” He feels slightly uncomfortable without his mask or gloves. He tries not to look down at his hands. “But even then, it wasn’t even that bad. Just small patches that took a while to get big enough to notice.”

Sam nods and squats down, inspecting the patch on ranboo’s face. “Did you know which mob they did? Because it looks like it might be an Enderman but we can never be sure-”

Ranboo covers the patch with his hand. “Yeah, it’s Enderman."

Sam hums in acknowledgement and gets up. “It’s gonna be a similar process, I think.” Sam taps a knuckle to his upper lip, scanning his brewing stands. “But I’m gonna have to rework it for you. There’s going to be a lot of stuff that’s not gonna work, so we’re just gonna have to be patient.”

Ranboo scratches absentmindedly at his hand, which is the same creeping black as the patch on his face. “Okay.”

“I think a fully functional remedy will take anywhere from a week to a month,” Sam sits down next to him.

Ranboo feels his heart sink a little. “A month?”

Sam nods and exhales through his nose.

“At least when it’s finished, all this will go away, right?” Ranboo gestures to his face and the patches on his arms and hands.

Sam sighs sadly. “I don’t think it will, Ranboo. If it did, I wouldn’t have this,” He points to his eye, whose black surface shines brightly. Like a polished pool ball, Ranboo notes randomly.

“Right,” He whispers, the fear of having to hide his blackened skin all his life just setting in. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Sam reassures cautiously, setting a hand on Ranboo’s shoulder.  
Ranboo adjusts his tinted glasses. “I know it’s gonna be okay,” He says, a little too fast.

Sam looks at him, a little worried. “Okay, you just seemed worried.”

“I’m fine! This is fine, it’s all going to be perfectly fine!” Ranboo stands up and starts pacing around.

Sam stares at Ranboo blankly, his eyebrows curving in a confused manner.

“This is,” Ranboo stops walking and looks down at sam. “This is fine.”

“You just gotta wait while we figure something out,” Sam gets up as well, dusting off his hands.

“Just a month,” Ranboo pulls on his gloves. “It’s just a month. How bad could it be?”

Sam gives a thumbs up. “It’s all gonna be fine, Ranboo.”

Ranboo swallows. “Yup!”

A feeling deep down in his gut tells him that it won’t be easy. He forces a smile. “It’s gonna be fine!”


	2. knock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ranboo has to run a business and also gets some bonding time.

Ranboo sits on the edge of his bed, looking up at the calendar staring him down. 

“One month. At most one month.” He groans and flops down, shoving his hands under his glasses. “How am I gonna make it that long?”

A loud knock sounds from his door. 

He gets up, rolling down the sleeves of his shirt and doing other spot checks to make sure his abnormal patches are securely hidden.

The door swings inward, revealing a very determined looking Fundy.

“Hello, fundy,” Ranboo adjusts his glasses.

“Well hello, Ranboob!” Fundy puts a very heavy emphasis on the last b.

“That’s not my name,” Ranboo groans quietly, closing the door behind Fundy.

Fundy’s massive orange fox tail twitches mischeviously. “We both know I know that, Ranboob.”

“This is so hypocritical of you-” Ranboo starts.

“We have a business to run, Ranboob-” Fundy interrupts.

“People call you by a nickname that you hate, so I don’t use that nickname-”

“We have plenty of ice cream to sell today-”

“Like, I don’t wanna be called ranboob-”

“And Punz is really abusing his discount-”

“If I called you a furry, you’d get mad at me-” Ranboo expects to be interrupted by fundy again, but he’s met with silence.

“What did you just call me?” Fundy’s voice is dead serious, and a shadow hangs over his eyes menacingly. 

“See? This is exactly what I was talking about!” Ranboo says, throwing his hands out in front of him. “You’re mad, and I didn’t even call you a furry!”

Fundy grumbles some more, his fox ears sinking backwards with rage.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! You’re not a furry!” Ranboo apologizes as he sees Fundy’s claws glimmer in the light.

Fundy’s mood shifts immediately. “As I was saying, We gotta get to the shop, Ranboob. We have work to do!”

Ranboo opens his mouth to protest the nickname, but decides against it. “Right,” He sighs, adjusting the plastic crown perched on the back of his head. “Let’s open up.”  
\---  
The day goes slowly, as per usual. Their vague marketing techniques worked a little bit, but for mass selling, it just wasn’t doing the trick. Puffy and Niki stopped in from time to time just to annoy the two of them, and they reciprocated. After several spats of incoherent shouting between fundy and puffy, a few ice creams, and a bouquet of flowers, the stores were at a stalemate once again. 

Ranboo leans against the back wall, taking in the late afternoon sun.

“We earned no profits,” Fundy grumbles, his head leaning on the glass of the serving counter. “What are we doing wrong, Ranboo?”

Ranboo feels a swell of justice at the lack of a b tacked on the end of his name. “I don’t think we have enough signs up,” He says, only half joking.

Fundy’s ears perk up. “You’re a fucking genius,” He raises himself up and grins. “We’re gonna need a fuck ton of signs.”  
\---

“Fundy, I’m not that much taller than you, I don’t see why I have to be the one-”

“Get that sign up there, Ranboob. We can’t confuse unwitting customers into wanting our product if there aren’t any cryptic signs seven feet in the air, now can we?” Fundy stands with his hands on his hips, his orange tail flicking back and forth with a mischievous joy. 

“I’m not seven feet, fundy-” Ranboo looks down at him, adjusting his mask. 

“And I don’t care. We need more signs.”

“We already have plenty!” Ranboo whines.

Fundy scoffs. “What? You’re the one who suggested more signs!”

“I was joking!” Ranboo waves the sign around wildly.

Fundy makes a face. “I don’t think we have enough signs up, fundy,” He mocks in a high pitched voice.

“I do not sound like that,” Ranboo scoffs, crossing his arms. 

“We need more signs, fundy,” Fundy continues, waving his hands around limply, trying and failing to imitate an incompetent child. “It’ll get more customers, Fundy!” Fundy drops the act and stares blankly at Ranboo. “Fuck off.”

“What was that for?” Ranboo half scoffs, half laughs.

“Hang the goddamn sign, asshole.” Fundy pokes at Ranboo’s spine.

Ranboo waves his hands in resignation. “Fine! Fine!”

He’s about to swing the hammer down into the wood when a familiar voice calls. “Ranboo!”

Ranboo looks over his shoulder awkwardly, craning his neck to see who it is.

The bright green hair gives it away.

“Sam, what are you doing here?” Fundy asks, poking ranboo again, trying to get him to work again.

“I’m here for Ranboo. I have something for him, and he needs to come with me.”

Fundy looks between the two of them. 

They look back at him.

Fundy blinks. “This is such horse-shit!” A very permeable space in the last word emphasizes the swear.

“I gotta go, fundy,” Ranboo shrugs, taking this opportunity to leave Fundy with work that he will most likely never finish. “Sam needs me.”

Fundy takes the sign and the hammer and stares up at Ranboo, aghast. 

“Have fun finishing up!” Ranboo calls back at fundy, waving as he strides away.

Fundy raises a hand to the sky, flipping him the bird. “Fuck you!” Fundy draws out the last syllable, until it reaches a howling pitch, at which point he drops the materials and runs off. He vanishes into the night, the only thing revealing his path through the darkness is the bright orange of his tail, darting gracefully behind him.

Ranboo turns to Sam when Fundy and his tail are no longer visible. “What’s up?”

Sam smiles. “I think I have a start on your remedy,” He pulls out a dark teal sphere and holds out his hand.

Ranboo’s chest swells with excitement. Maybe he won’t have to wait a whole month after all. He cautiously takes Sam’s hand, and Sam chucks the sphere into the night.

Ranboo realizes it’s an ender pearl the second before they’re swallowed by darkness. They land on the ground, the void leaving sam breathless. Ranboo feels only slightly disoriented. He finds that odd, but pays no mind to it. He does tend to use the pearls a lot, maybe he’s just more used to them.

The two of them finish the trek to sam’s house, venturing through the nether and only halting at the cliff face that conceals sam’s base of operations.

A quick flattening of the grass on a portion of the slope up the mountain activates the door. The pure redstone-mechanical prowess of sam never ceases to amaze Ranboo.

Sam strides inside his massive base, and ranboo has no problem catching up. His strangely long legs carry him swiftly inside and next to sam.

“I think I might have a start,” Sam’s footsteps echo through his base hollowly. “I found my old notes from when I was solving my own problem, and have been trying to make sense of them again.”

“They’re your notes, how hard are they to-” Ranboo stops himself as he looks down at the piles of loose papers strewn across a makeshift desk in front of sam’s auto-brewer. “Oh.”  
Sam laughs to himself. “I had no idea what was happening, Ranboo, so I didn’t think to stay organized.”

Ranboo nods. “Right.”

Sam pulls out a bottle full of inky liquid. Ranboo’s never seen a potion like it before. It shimmers with purple and a dark teal, and reminds him of the patches of skin creeping up his arms. 

“Drink this,” Sam instructs, pulling out a notebook.

Ranboo obliges, taking a swig. It tastes foul, and he nearly spits it back out.

“That bad, huh?” Sam laughs, scratching down some notes. “What did it taste like?”  
Ranboo wipes his mouth and tongue. “Like ozone and autumn, and also strangely ash, but ten times worse. It tastes the way the End smells,” He shudders.

“Fascinating. You do remember that nobody’s managed to find a stronghold? Nobody here has been to the End, Ranboo.”

It doesn’t quite click for him until a moment later. “Oh. oh. OH!” He jumps backwards a little bit. “Oh my god, how do I know what the end smells like?” He runs a worried hand through his hair.

Sam laughs a little, and scratches at the border between his patterned creeper skin and his natural skin. “Don’t worry about it. I could smell the differences in gunpowder after a while,” He writes another note before closing his leather bound journal. “What’s curious is how early on that symptom is showing for you.”

Ranboo feels a trapdoor open in his stomach, emptying his emotions into his feet. “What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t until after I started getting my abilities that my smell-o-vision kicked in. Then again, it’s probably different for different people.”

Ranboo’s curiosity is piqued. “Abilities?” He says meekly, mentally picking up his emotions and trying to force-close the trapdoor in his gut.

Sam hums and smiles a little “Yep.” 

“What abilities?”

Sam beckons, and struts through his base to the door and opens it. “I’ll show you,” He calls.  
Ranboo follows warily.

Sam runs out into the field near his house, far enough away from his builds that nothing could get harmed, but close enough that they know where they are.

“I’d step back.” He motions for ranboo to get behind him and away from him.

Ranboo obliges willingly.

Sam sighs and rolls up his sleeves, exposing a patchwork of human and creeper skin, swirling between themselves in a sort of dance that mesmerises Ranboo. He rubs his hands together and adopts a wide stance, his body weight shifting to a stable position.

“Here,” He pauses, shaking out his hands and tilting his head to crack his neck. “We.” he interlaces his fingers and cracks his knuckles. “Go.”

He extends an arm, his hand in a finger gun position. Ranboo sees his eyes narrow, and as Sam exhales, a small sparking sound can be heard. He doesn’t realize it’s coming from sam’s fingertips until sam rapidly whips his arm back, a bright cluster gathering on his index finger, and extends his arm again, hurling the strange ball of light a good distance away.

“That was cool-” Ranboo begins, but sam holds up a finger.

A second later, a loud explosion can be seen and heard from the spot where the cluster landed.

“Now you may applaud,” Sam takes a bow as the small gust of wind from the explosion gently ruffles his hair and clothes.

Ranboo is utterly speechless. He fumbles for a bit, his voice making a few cracking noises that can barely pass for words, before taking off his glasses and cleaning them.

Sam straightens himself and dusts off his clothes with a swift bat from the back of his hands. 

“Yeah, so I can do that,” He runs a hand through his hair, sweeping some of the green strands back and out of his face.

Ranboo stares down sam for another moment.

“We should probably cover up that hole, huh,” Sam adds, awkwardly putting his hands in his pockets.

“Y-yeah.” Ranboo stammers, still processing what happened. “We should probably do that.”  
\---

It’s not until they’re almost done filling the hole with dirt that ranboo regains his ability to speak. 

“So you can explode stuff?”

Sam nods. “Yep.”

“How long have you been able to do that?”

Sam pauses, leaning on his shovel. “I was probably 16 or 17. Somewhere around-”

“My age. Yeah.” Ranboo sighs and sits down, his lanky frame folding on top of itself awkwardly.

Sam takes a seat next to him. “Everything okay?”

Ranboo hums, nonplussed.

Sam looks out at the view, not pressuring the kid to say anything, hoping he’ll elaborate in his own time.

He does, eventually.

“I don’t want to hide forever.” He mumbles, bringing his knees to his chest.

Sam looks over to him. “Hide?”

“All this,” Ranboo points to his arms, then gently touches the patch on his cheek. “It’s going to get so bad that a mask and long sleeves can’t cover it anymore. And I don’t even know how water is going to affect them, and I don’t even know if anything else is going to happen to me.”  
Sam almost butts in, but stops himself.

“You already know everything. You stopped your curse a long time ago. You already know all the secrets and powers and stuff you have. I don’t. And I don’t know if I’ll even be able to hide it.”

Sam sighs. “So what if you can’t hide it?”

Ranboo feels almost offended. “What do you mean?”

“Nobody freaked out when I showed up, creeper face and all.”

Ranboo tilts his head skeptically.

“Seriously! Tommy said, and I quote, ‘hello weird face guy, please get off my property or else I will shoot you.’ no joke.”

Ranboo huffs out a laugh at that. 

“Man, nobody cares.” Sam says plainly, leaning back on his hands.

“I doubt that.”

“They don’t! They’re too wrapped up in their own problems to really care about a patch of skin on your face or arm or hand or whatever, and the fact that you constantly smell like you’re using ender pearls. They’re fighting wars and stuff. They could care less about how you look.”

Ranboo fidgets.

“And I’m not trying to make it seem like your problems aren’t a big deal. They are a big deal. That’s why I’m helping,” Sam adds. “And you can always keep it a secret for however long you want. You should get to decide when you’re comfortable enough with it to tell other people. It may be tomorrow, it may be next week. Hell, you might never tell anybody, and that’s okay. It’s none of their business until you feel like you’re ready to tell someone.”

Ranboo feels a warmth spread in his chest, sending the chill out of his fingers and toes. 

“Got it?” Sam looks at him, waiting for a response.

Ranboo nods. “Yeah. got it.”

“Do you really got it?” Sam prods Ranboo playfully, hoping for a more convincing answer.

That gets a giggle out of him. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good,” Sam stands up. “We still have to finish filling this hole.”

Ranboo pulls up his dirt and rolls up his sleeves again. “Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayo second chapter pog  
> theres a bit more exposition in this about the whole curse thing as you can see!!! 
> 
> not even gonna lie im kinda going into this half blind and just writing what i want when i want because i think its *fun* and you cant do anything about it hahahahaha
> 
> thoughts feelings question comments concerns? you know what to do :)  
> and what i mean by that is yeah uh comment or something   
> much appreciated 
> 
> thank you for reading :))


	3. snip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flower picking with Niki Nihachu, some interesting developments occur :)

Fundy leaves the ice cream shop even before lunch break, citing a vague yet important excuse that he has to attend to immediately.

This leaves time for Ranboo to completely disregard his store’s apparent turf war with their neighbor and spend time with his friend.

A small bell pleasantly marks his entrance into Niki’s flower shop. Well, it’s Niki and Puffy’s, but puffy has also cited an important and unclear event that caused her absence.

Better for Ranboo and Niki. 

“Hello! I’ll be there in just a moment!” Niki’s voice calls gently from the back. For her naturally quiet, melodic voice to carry so clearly remains a mystery to Ranboo.

He leans against the cashier counter, taking in the muffled smells of fresh greenery. His favorites are the alliums, their spherical purple starburst standing tall in the yellow light. Niki has them set up in one of the flower beds outside the side window, as well as having a large collection of them in a pot full of water. Sitting in front of the clay is a neatly written price tag that ranboo doesn’t have the chance to read before he hears a gentle, excited gasp.

“Ranboo!” Niki holds her hands gently in front of her mouth with pleasant surprise. 

“Hey!” He waves, turning his attention to her.

She tiptoes excitedly around the counter, bouncing from one foot to the other. “Hello!” She wraps her arms around Ranboo in an incredibly cozy embrace that satisfies a deep part of Ranboo’s soul. Niki tended to do that. Her gentle and kind nature makes you feel instantly at ease, no matter how upset you may be.

“Figured I’d stop by, check in on you.” He leans backwards a little, looking down at Niki with a lopsided smile. This smile, is of course, hidden by his mask.

“I’m glad you did!” Niki’s face is split into the largest smile Ranboo’s ever seen, the happiness radiating off her in waves. She pulls away slightly and looks up at him. “Did you get taller?”

Ranboo laughs. “I honestly don’t know. Probably? I wouldn’t know, I’m taller than most people here,” He scratches absentmindedly at the back of his head.

“You’re such an enderman,” Niki laughs.

Ranboo’s heart skips a beat for a second, before he realizes that she’s alluding to his height, not his curse. He laughs nervously. “Yep! For sure!” 

Niki pulls away from the hug and goes back behind the counter. “Is fundy away?”

Ranboo nods, gazing around the store. He didn’t realize how many flowers were in here. 

Despite the fact that the two buildings are exactly the same, the flower shop is somehow cozier. 

The buckets and pots and hanging baskets full of colorful blossoms in an armada of colors decorate the walls and display floor and compact the space down. Everything smells fresh and clean and new.

“Puffy’s away too. Should we be worried?” Niki smiles a little bit, examining a wilting flower and giving it a small pour of water.

“Unless they come back covered in stab wounds and claw marks, I’d just guess they’re doing two different things.” Ranboo looks back over to niki.

She nods thoughtfully. “You’re probably right,” She pauses and looks around. “Want to help me get more flowers?” She asks after a calm break in conversation.

Ranboo is caught pleasantly off guard by her offer. “Really? I’m your business competition!”

Niki shrugs. “You’re my friend,” She states plainly.

“Can’t argue with that,” His wide, goofy smile is hidden by his mask, and he’s glad that she can’t see how overjoyed he is.

Niki goes into the back of the store, beckoning ranboo in behind her.

“I’ve found the perfect flower field,” Niki smiles, grabbing a pair of scissors and other gardening tools. “There’s just so many different types, and they’re all right there in this beautiful little area!”

She opens a door into a small room filled with swirling purple light. 

“You’ve already got a portal connected?” Ranboo gawks.

“Not really. We still have to walk a bit,” She puts one foot in and beckons for Ranboo to join her.

“How do the flowers not burn when you travel through here?” Ranboo asks as the two of them step fully into the portal, the world swirling nauseatingly around them.

They step out and Niki shrugs. “Magic, I guess.”

They continue to walk through the scorching heat of the nether, following a trail of colorful concrete.

Niki explains that she plans to enclose the path and make it look nice, but the sporadic color is enough for now. Ranboo agrees, wiping beads of perspiration off of his forehead. 

His fully-covered getup is nice in the overworld, but in hell, it gets a little toasty.

When they reach the second portal, the small swirls of cool air that manage to go through the portal make him sigh with relief.

Stepping out onto the other side of the portal is like uncovering a heavy blanket from your head after hiding under it for a while. The cool breeze washes out the blistering stale air, and the two of them let out a sigh.

Niki was right. It is perfect.

And she wasn’t kidding about the variety. The birch trees that tend to grow in these types of biomes make a cute clearing that lets the warm sunlight in, heating his skin pleasantly. The dark patches of his skin warm faster, even under his shirt, spreading a gentle calm through his body.

Niki goes about cutting flowers, the gentle snip of her scissors adding to the gentle ambient sounds of the area.

Ranboo wades through the different blossoms, the names slipping his mind until his eye catches a large cluster of alliums. “Oh, sweet!” He says to nobody in particular, bounding over and squatting next to them. 

He easily takes one of the flowers and holds it gently, examining the beautiful hue of its petals.

In pulling up the flower, he takes the chunk of grass and dirt from under it, the area maintaining relative cube-ness and its grassy top.

“How did you do that?” Niki is staring at him, awed at his flower-picking ease.

“Do what?” Ranboo asks, obliviously taking more alliums.

“That! You took a grass block with your hand!”

That’s when ranboo realizes. This must be one of the abilities that sam mentioned. Oh no.

He quickly pockets the flowers, sets down the chunk of grassy land, and shakes it off. “Just strong, I guess.”

Niki looks him over, his scrawny frame not convincing her.

“Right.”

Ranboo nods awkwardly. “Got another spot?”

Niki stares at him for a moment. He never realized how much it burns. The eye contact feels like a gentle searing at the back of his neck, and his face flushes unpleasantly. He shifts from foot to foot as niki wades her way through the flowers, her eye contact making Ranboo want to yell a little bit.

As she points in a direction, he can’t help but mutter something sarcastic under his breath. As she breaks eye contact, all the negative feelings flood out of him. Like someone had been baking him, then dipped him in cold water. A chill runs down his spine.

He didn’t quite recognize the person he was back there. That makes him nervous.

He tries to shove it to the back of his mind as he continues to clip alliums.

The repetitive motion helps keep his mind off of the encounter, and the quantity of flowers he holds grows substantially. He and niki work in almost silence, enjoying the company of the other.

They only stop working when the light the sun casts turns a gentle sloping shade of orange. Niki suggests they should go back, and ranboo agrees. The manual work, while not very taxing physically, has left him tired and dirty and sore.

The two of them trudge back through the soft glassy surface of the nether portal, and over a couple hundred blocks of hell until they make it back to the flower shop. Niki graciously accepts the harvested flowers from ranboo, and bids him a goodnight.

The orange that Ranboo saw in the sky when leaving the field has shifted to a deep swirling majesty of magenta bleeding into purple bleeding into indigo bleeding into black, all throughout scattered with gentle pinpricks of light. The arc of the sky shifts gently onward as ranboo makes the walk back to his house. 

His footsteps fall heavy on the planks of L’manburg’s platforms, the sleep he so desperately needs settling into his bones.

He stumbles sleepily into his house, barely locking the door before completely passing out on his bed, face down in the pillow.

He wakes up about half an hour later with a headache and the taste of lint in his mouth. He forgot his mask and glasses.

He groggily turns over, peeling off his mask and other assorted accessories involved with the upkeep of his appearance.

Trying to get his shoes off without bending over to untie them takes longer than it should have, but he gets them off eventually. Pajamas are a frivolity at this point, but he’s too tired to care. 

Besides, he’s already halfway there. Why not just get all the way ready for bed, as if he hadn’t already fallen asleep in his suit and mask? It’s a fresh start, he supposes groggily, his mouth still full of tiny hairs from the fabric of his mask. 

An absentminded scratch at the side of his face reminds him of the patches. He doesn’t mind them so much when he’s tired. His head hits the pillow, and his eyes begin to flutter closed. 

_ Maybe I should stay tired all the time _ , he thinks. _ Maybe then I wouldn’t have to care so much about what other people might think. _

A deep, full chested sigh, the kind that expels any stale air from every corner of your lungs, pushes Ranboo over the edge of sleep. As he tumbles inward, his semi conscious thought is that of Niki. He wonders if she’s thinking about what happened in the flower field.  _ She probably isn’t, _ his last waking thought reassures him.  _ Why wouldn’t she believe him? _

That night he dreams of alliums and the uncomfortable feeling of a pair of far-off eyes watching him.

Strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to smash that like and subscribe button and leave your thoughts down in the comments section!!!
> 
> can we get some niki pogs??? any nihachu fans in chat???
> 
> thank you for reading :))


	4. paf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *enderman teleporting noises*  
> also philza and ghostbur content

It’s disgusting how even when you’re the right amount of tired to get a good night’s sleep, your body refuses. 

The amount of times that Ranboo wakes up that night is absolutely revolting. He manages to force himself to continue trying to sleep until a semi-decent hour.

That hour shows itself to be six am. The sun rising low in the sky shines directly in his eyes, forcing him awake.

He puts a hand up to block the rays. “Oh, you’re kidding.” He grumbles, checking the clock hanging over his chests.

He groans. “Oh, you have to be joking,” His voice cracks with sleep and he lets his forearm fall over his eyes.

He sighs, gently pushing his cat off of his chest. “Well. Guess it’s time to get up,” He grumbles, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and reluctantly sliding down to the floor. His legs splay out in front of him and he lets the weight of his head fold him forward.

“Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” He groans and sobs jokingly. “I don’t want to be awa-hae-hae-ke”

His cat meyowls in response.

“Oh, be quiet,” He scratches Jeffery behind the ears, and the cat leans into it, flicking his tail in a triumphant slow-in slow-out way. “You have all day to just sleep. I have a job.”

Ranboo reluctantly stands up. Jeffery looks up at him. 

“What?”

Jeffery says nothing. He is a cat.

“I know work isn’t for a while, but i still need to eat and stuff,” Ranboo explains, making his way to his-

There’s a moment in his walk to his furnace where it feels like missing a step on a staircase. 

There’s an empty wind that echoes through his ears, but only for a moment. 

He didn’t realize he closed his eyes until he slowly opens them, gazing out into a kitchen.

It’s not his kitchen.

It takes him a moment to process the last sentence.

_ Oh god, it’s not his kitchen. _

“Where am I?” He steps forward, slamming his toe into the counter at full speed. He manages to muffle his yell, but the momentum of his crunching big toe rattles the contents of the shelving unit.

A landslide of pots and pans explodes beneath him.

He fumbles awkwardly, trying to catch as many of them as he can before they cause more noise. 

The floorboards creak above him. The owner of the house is awake.

Ranboo doesn’t typically swear, but the pounding of his heart and trembling hands allows him to let loose a gentle “damn!”

“Who’s there?” Someone shouts from upstairs. The blood pounds in Ranboo’s ears, but he still registers that it’s Philza.

This is Phil’s house.

Oh no.

He stays as quiet as he can be.

“I know someone’s in there,” Phil’s accent makes it easy to identify him. He talks with a very distinctive nasal and somehow choppy and slurred accent. His e’s and a’s always tend to bleed into each other, and his choppy s sounds distinctively bookend any word. It is currently slurred by sleep, edged with anticipation.

Ranboo remains completely and utterly silent.

“If it’s ghostbur, please get out, for the last fuckin’ time, you can’t have my books.” Phil’s voice is getting closer.

Ranboo panics, scanning the kitchen frantically for an escape, a disguise, something. Something.

Phil tiptoes into the kitchen, an axe ready behind his back, expecting some sort of bomb or other trap. 

“Ranboo?”

Ranboo waves sheepishly.

Phil stares at him for a second. “What the fuck?” he lowers his weapon. “Why do you have my oven mitts on?”

Ranboo laughs a little at that, trying to hide the nerves overtaking his voice.

“Why do you have a sheet pan in front of your face?”

“Early morning baking?” Ranboo asks uneasily.

“Riiiiiight,” Phil pulls out the i in the word, crossing his arms. “And what’re’ya doin at my place, then?”

Oh no.

“Tis the season?”

“It’s November, Ranboo.”

“Thanksgiving?” He smiles pitifully, but then realizes a crucial flaw. “You don’t celebrate, do you?”

Phil raises an eyebrow. 

“Fine! I’m not actually baking.”

“Then what are you doing?” Phil takes a step closer.

Ranboo extends a oven-mitted hand. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Grab my sheet pan? The one you’re breathing onto?”

Ranboo looks at the cloud of fog gathering on the shiny metal. “I’m not breathing onto it,” He says, wiping the condensation with his shirt and holding the pan further from his face.

“Right. If you’re not using it for anything, I want it back. Now.”

Ranboo laughs nervously. “I don’t think I can do that,”

“Why. Not.” Phil grits his teeth. “You’re getting me fuckin-” He pauses and rubs his eyes. “I’m 

getting pretty fuckin pissed, Ranboo. I want my pan back.”

“Why do you need it so badly?” Ranboo pulls back, edging farther away from Phil.

“Why do YOU need it so badly?” Phil shrieks, his wings ruffling with annoyance. “Dude, I just want my pan back, why are you being such a prick?” Phil swats at Ranboo, trying to grab the pan.

“I’m sorry!” Ranboo cries, leaning back as far as he can to avoid the arc of phil’s hand. “If you let me leave with the mitts and pan I’ll give them back ASAP!”

Phil groans. “Why can’t you just give them to me now?”

“BECAUSE!” Ranboo scampers away, making sure to face phil at all times.

Phil laughs, exasperation straining his voice. “BECAUSE WHY?”

Ranboo thinks. How does he explain it?

“Why, ranboo?” Phil rubs his face. “Do you even have a reason?”

Ranboo pauses. “Fine, you can have it back,” Ranboo sighs, hesitantly lowering the pan.

“Why the fuck do you have your shirt over your face?” Phil wheezes when he sees ranboo’s alternate face covering.

“Privacy, why else?”

  
  


Phil stares at him for a good 30 seconds before rubbing his eyes and chuckling. “What about my mitts?”

“Your… mitts?” Ranboo pulls up the slipping fabric of his shirt, concealing any of his patches. 

His back twinges a little from his hunched over position inside his shirt.

“Yes, my oven mitts. The ones on your hands. I need those, too.”

Ranboo laughs nervously. “Listen phil, can’t we come to a compromise?”

“What kind of compromise?” Phil sighs, exasperated.

“Uh, uh,” Ranboo looks around frantically for a way out. “How about I go to the door with the oven mitts, take them off outside, and throw them back in the door?”

“This is so fuckin’ complicated just for oven mitts.”

“I know, right? If you just let me take them to my place, I’ll give them back-”   


“NO!” Phil shouts, stepping closer. “Just give me the fuckin mitts!”

“WHY CAN’T WE JUST COMPROMISE?” Ranboo yelps, making a run for the door.

“You lanky little prick!” Philza cries, giving chase.

It doesn’t take long for ranboo to bound to the other side of the house and pull the door closed behind him. The door gives a little with a loud bang. 

“GIVE ME BACK MY OVEN MITTS, RANBOO!” Phil shouts from the other side of the door. 

Ranboo pulls them off and carefully hides behind the door as he chucks them inside. “You’re welcome!” He calls, shutting the door again.

No response from phil except some unintelligible grumbling.

“Well.” Ranboo leans against the door, breathing to calm his pounding heart. He turns around and looks up to the sky with a heavy sigh.

He slides down until he’s sitting in a hunched position against the door, looking at the wispy clouds highlighted in orange as the sun begins to rise.

“My goodness, what a morning.” He runs his blackened hands through his hair, leaning his forehead on his knees.

“What happened to phil?” A gently reverberating voice says into his ear.

Ranboo jumps out of his skin, and he barely registers the noise when he’s suddenly 50 feet away, in the plaza. He looks down at himself with another sigh before looking up to where his ear was a moment ago.

A semi-transparent yellow-clad specter stares at him.

“Oh, hi, ghostbur.” Ranboo rubs his eyes and waves.

Ghostbur waves back enthusiastically before floating lazily over to him. “Hello Ran-boo!” Ghostbur enunciates. “I didn’t know you could do that!”   


“Do what, ghostbur?”

Ghostbur points over to the spot the two of them were. “Vwoop!” He closes his body up and scrunches his eyes.

Ranboo blinks.

“Pffaaaah!” Ghostbur makes a big explosion with his arms, the momentum of it driving him into a little backwards flip. “That thing!”

“The teleporting?” Ranboo says after a moment.

Ghostbur nods excitedly, clasping his hands together. “That was suuuper cool! I didn’t know you could do that!” Ghostbur looks over ranboo in his pyjamas. “I also didn't know you had weird skin things, have you tried healing potions?”

Ranboo tries to protest, but Ghostbur continues to ramble.

“I could have sworn I had a healing potion somewhere around here, maybe that’ll help. What do you need to make one again? Don’t you need those melony thingies? I think you do. Maybe phil has them! I’ll go ask-”

Ranboo steps in front of the ghost and waves his arms no. “Nobody can know about this, ghostbur.”

Ghostbur looks from ranboo to the doorstep of Phil’s house. “But phil has the melons-”   


“I don’t need a healing potion, Ghostbur, I-” Ranboo buries his head in his hands. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

“Private? Why?” Ghostbur floats around ranboo in a circle, eyes wide.

Ranboo walks to his house, his socks getting soaked in the snow coating the ground.

He pushes open the door, holding it for the ghost. 

Ghostbur walks through the closed door. Ranboo sighs and rubs his eyes before shutting the door behind him.

“Because this is supposed to be a secret.”

Ghostbur gasps, covering his mouth in surprise. “A secret?” He whispers, looking around wildly, his eyebrows through the roof. “What’s the secret?”

Ranboo pauses, staring at Ghostbur. 

“Are you kidding?”

Ghostbur pauses. “N- no?”

Ranboo sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You do realize that this,” He gestures to the black creeping up his arms, “Isn’t natural?”

Ghostbur stares blankly at Ranboo, his head tilting slightly with confusion.

Ranboo almost laughs, a single stifled chuckle escaping.

“What?” Ghostbur inquires, floating forward a bit.

“N- nothing, it’s just that-” He rubs his eyes. “Sam was right.”

“Sam?” Ghostbur leans back and thinks. “Awe-sam-dude?” He breaks up the name into syllables, as if that will make the word easier to digest.

Ranboo nods.

“What did he say?”

“He- he said that people wouldn’t care. And they don’t! They… they really just don’t care, huh?” Ranboo scratches his scalp before messing with his hair some more. “Well, I guess only you know, Ghostbur. And I dunno if you can be considered people. You are a ghost.”

Ghostbur smiles. “What do I know again?”

\---

“So… you’re becoming an enderman?” Ghostbur floats cross legged, about five feet from ranboo, who is seated on his bed.

“Y- yeah, basically.”

Ghostbur makes a duck face and squints, his comically childish mannerisms overwhelmingly endearing.

“I’ve explained this to you like, five times, Ghostbur. I don’t know what other way to phrase it, honestly.” 

Ghostbur’s eyes narrow even more as he leans forward in the air, examining the blackish purple skin creeping along ranboo’s face.

“Okay!” Ghostbur leans back again, putting his folded hands in his lap.

“O- okay?” Ranboo leans back a little, slightly confused at the ghost’s perceived understanding.

“You’re the ender thingy!”   
  
“Well, technically I’m human, but-”   
  
“You’re turning into the ender thingy.”

“Enderman.”   
  
“Yeah! That!”

Ranboo sighs and strokes one of his cats, which has crawled its way into his lap. “And you can’t tell anybody about this.”   
  
Ghostbur nods and makes a zipping motion across his lips, locks one end, and flicks the key off into the distance.

“Okay?”

Ghostbur nods decisively, his grayed hair falling in his face.

“Okay.” Ranboo sighs, rubbing his eyes with exhaustion. “Okay, okay. We can handle this. This is fine.”

Ghostbur nods again, looking down at ranboo with wide eyes.

“I should probably tell sam.”

Ghostbur’s eyebrows shoot up, and he starts to make urgent noises through sealed lips. 

“Yeah?”

Ghostbur unzips his mouth with a sigh of relief. “Sam? Like, Awesamdude? The-” Ghostbur’s voice drops to a hushed whisper. “The boom boom redstone creeper man?”

Ranboo huffs a laugh. “I mean, he’s more than just a-” He tags air quotes with his fingers around the phrase, “Boom boom redstone creeper man.”

Ghostbur contemplates this. “I suppose,” He muses, floating lazily. “But he is still a creeper boy with a weird eye.”

“Fair, fair,” Ranboo gives his cat one last affectionate scratch before standing. 

“Where are you going?”

Ranboo dusts himself off and grabs his coat. “To sam’s. I’ve got an appointment.”

The ghost eyes him over. “Aren’t you in your pyjamas?”

Ranboo looks down at himself, suddenly aware of his clothes. He hesitates for a moment before waving his hands dismissively. “Eh, It’s fine.”

“You sure?” Ghostbur floats in a circle around him. “I think you’re missing something, though.”

Ranboo snatches his gloves and mask quickly. “I know that,” He says, knowing that he absolutely didn’t.

“Let’s go!” Ghostbur phases through the wall to the outside.

Ranboo sighs, putting on his mask and gloves before closing the door with a soft click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> caspar the friendly ghost makes an appearance  
> and so does the creator of minecraft himself
> 
> hope you enjoyed!!! thank you for reading it's always really nice to read your comments :))

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!!   
> this is all lighthearted n stuff and also very casual so dont take it too seriously :)
> 
> with any fan-made media, please remember to be respectful of any boundaries there are!!!
> 
> again, thanks for reading :))


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